Horse Girl, Your Friend is Fighting Her Way Out of the Horse Racing Track

The rain grew heavier and heavier, and the world seemed to be nothing more than a gray and white curtain of rain.

My body is no longer my own.

Poetry and wine feel like an old car that is falling apart.

The parts were clanging and rattling, the engine was smoking, and the coolant was like a torrential downpour of icy rain.

"Oh shit."

The black-haired girl's resentment soared to the heavens.

The regret gradually faded, replaced by a reckless and irritable attitude of "what's the use?"

'Just die, just die.'

'Anyway, I won't die...at least not before the fourth trip, right?'

She began to mutter incoherent thoughts in her mind, trying to use these chaotic thoughts to combat the physical pain.

Do you know that I can't even die if I want to?

【Why...am I...about to...die...again...?】

The voice of the sea-blue goddess echoed intermittently in my mind.

Poetry and wine had clouded their senses, and they couldn't hear what the other was saying at all.

'It's so noisy...'

She replied to herself in frustration.

Since we're not going to die, let's run.

Run until your heart explodes, run until your legs break.

She bit her lip so hard it bled.

He used the pain from the blood to force himself to stay awake, fighting against the darkness that was about to devour his consciousness.

The fifth kilometer.

The world has become bizarre and fantastical.

The scenery before my eyes began to distort and elongate, turning into abstract blocks of color.

The dark clouds in the sky seemed to have turned into huge rocks pressing down on our heads.

I can no longer feel the rain hitting my face.

Poetry and wine no longer cause me pain.

Pain has become background noise, a part of breathing.

The blue and white figure being pursued is called Miracle: Chapter 120 Collapse

Her left hand was completely numb, like a dead tree hanging from her body.

She could only hold onto Riko Kashimoto's leg tightly with her right hand.

Her fingernails dug deep into her flesh, even tearing Kashimoto Riko's pants.

How much further?

'have no idea.'

Whatever.

As long as it's still moving, that's fine.

The black-haired girl had given up on herself.

It's like a gambler putting all his chips on the table.

Winning or losing is no longer important; what matters is ending this game.

Let them die or live.

The last mile.

This kilometer is longer than the previous five kilometers combined.

Poetry and wine make me feel like I'm not running, but dancing on the edge of a knife.

The rain washed over her body, taking away the last bit of warmth.

The only thing burning within her was her heart, which was on the verge of collapse.

Each time my foot landed, it was accompanied by a wave of dizziness.

The white outline of the hospital building was already emerging at the end of the rain curtain.

But in the blurred vision of poetry and wine, it sways and twists, sometimes near, sometimes far, as unattainable as a mirage.

"Riko Kashimoto...Riko Kashimoto..."

The black-haired horse murmured unconsciously, her voice broken and instantly swallowed by the torrential rain.

"If...you...die on the way...I will haunt you even as a ghost...I will...not...haunt...you...I will...not...haunt...you..."

This is probably the most vicious yet most powerless threat in the world.

The last 100 meters.

Poetry and wine make me feel like a walking corpse.

Every step I took felt like stepping on soft cotton.

The world began to spin.

The sky and the earth blended together.

The hospital gates are getting closer.

There seemed to be a nurse pushing a wheelchair out of the door.

Some people were exclaiming, some were pointing and whispering, and others were running this way.

The sound was noisy and distant, separated by a thick film of water.

I can't hear clearly, I can't see clearly.

Only one ridiculous thought remained in my mind.

First, throw Riko Kashimoto over there.

The mission is over once she's handed over to those men in white coats.

Poetry and wine rushed into the hospital, and the last bit of strength in his legs gave way, causing his knees to buckle.

One second before consciousness was completely severed.

With her last ounce of strength, she controlled her body to lean forward and, using the momentum, made an extremely difficult turn.

Make sure that Riko Kashimoto, who is on your back, can slide smoothly down onto the wheelchair that is being pushed over, or slide into the arms of the medical staff.

At least it didn't fall directly onto a hard concrete surface.

"Catch it."

Poetry and wine had turned into bluish-purple lips that moved slightly, but no sound came out.

Then, intense, agonizing pain, like a sharp sword, completely tore her consciousness apart.

A black world descended instantly, swallowing everything.

Poetry and wine were poured heavily onto the cold hospital floor, and the soaked clothes left a large water stain on the floor.

Her body convulsed violently, and then she fell silent.

Beside her, the once orderly emergency room hall instantly descended into chaos.

"Quick! Another one has fallen over here!"

"Why is there a buy-one-get-one-free offer?"

"Weak heartbeat! Almost undetectable! Bring the defibrillator quickly!"

"It's cardiac arrest! Prepare for CPR immediately! Prepare for defibrillation!"

Amidst the chaotic shouts and alarms from the instruments, Poetry and Wine lay peacefully on the ground.

A rare look of relief crossed the black-haired girl's face.

……

The smell of disinfectant.

That was the first scent that poetry and wine smelled when they awoke.

The pungent smell was mixed with a faint hint of blood.

White ceiling, white sheets, white walls.

The electrocardiogram monitor next to me emitted a regular "beep-beep" sound.

Poetry and wine opened their eyes, their pupils slightly unfocused as they awoke.

She stared at the pale ceiling, her mind blank for a few seconds, and then memories flooded back like a tide.

'I'm still alive...'

She let out a silent sigh in her heart and tentatively moved her fingers.

The fingers can move.

She gently rotated her ankle again.

The ankle can also move.

Then she took a deep breath, feeling the air enter her lungs.

Breathing... is smooth.

My heartbeat is regular.

Body……

'what? '

Poetry and Wine paused for a moment.

She carefully clenched her fist, feeling that her strength was not a problem.

Then she slowly raised her arm, bent it, straightened it, and bent it again.

There was no pain.

'It doesn't hurt...?'

Poetry and Wine's heart skipped a beat.

An incredulous feeling welled up from deep within my chest.

A look of hope appeared in the black-haired girl's eyes.

'Does it really not hurt... or is it just temporary numbness?'

Poetry and Wine bit her lower lip and clenched her fists even tighter, her nails digging deep into her palms.

It hurts now.

But it's normal, tolerable pain.

It wasn't the kind of excruciating pain that penetrates to the bone.

'Could it be...?'

Her breathing became rapid.

'Could it be that the side effects of immortality... have disappeared?'

The moment the thought crossed her mind, her heart began to pound.

If that's really the case, then the price she paid for saving Riko Kashimoto this time is completely acceptable.

She sat up slowly and carefully.